


Checking In On You

by intravenusann



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-07
Updated: 2012-05-07
Packaged: 2017-11-04 23:50:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/399579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/intravenusann/pseuds/intravenusann
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>JARVIS alerts Ms. Pepper Potts that Mr. Tony Stark isn’t taking care of himself. Since she’s out of town, Ms. Potts has no choice but to call for back up.<br/>2,500 words. Pre-slash Steve/Tony.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Checking In On You

It began with a text message sent to Palo Alto from the top floor of Stark Tower in New York City. With repairs still underway and the Hewlett Packard lawsuit requiring someone with tact, Tony stayed on the East coast. Now, of course, Pepper Potts could only try to dodge the constant recaps of Iron Man’s fight two days ago on the news.

Never before had she found herself wishing a celebrity would do something stupid — preferably involving nudity.

The text message didn’t help.

“Ms. Potts, a distraction for Mr. Stark would be lovely right about now. Regards, Jarvis.”

Whatever was bad enough to have JARVIS — not Tony — contact her on the other side of the country had to be worse than what she was already thinking. She slid her finger across the thin glass of the phone, pulling up her contacts list and scrolling through names and faces.

“Hello, Steve Rogers speaking,” the voice on the other end answered after four rings. He still sounded baffled, but he had picked up on the first call.

Pepper could just imagine Captain America holding the clunky plastic phone he’d gotten himself with two fingers, afraid to break it. That almost made her smile, but worry kept her from actually going through with it.

“Hi Steve, this is Pepper,” she explained.

“Ms. Potts,” he replied, sounding a little more confident. “How can I help you?”

“I was wondering if you were still in New York,” she told him. “And, please, you know you can call me Pepper.”

“Apologies, Pepper,” he said, polite as anything. “I’m in Jersey, actually, why?”

Well, Jersey was still closer than Kemerovo, Nuevo Laredo or Pretoria… Or Asgard, but she could never get a good connection on her cell.

“Would you mind swinging by Stark Tower for me, I think something might be up with Tony,” she was about to explain when Steve intruded on her.

“Something’s wrong with Tony?” Steve asked. “I haven’t heard from anyone else. What’s the situation?”

“I’m not sure at the moment, I’ve just gotten a message that he might be having trouble,” she told him. “Jarvis says he needs a ‘distraction,’ but I’m in California. It’s vague, I’m sorry, but it could be a follow up to the attack or he could have done something stupid and is out cold on a lab floor. Again.”

Pepper thought for a moment that she could hear his jaw firm up with seriousness and thought, but at least she could imagine it.

“I’ll be there in an hour,” he told her. “You can count on me.”

Pepper was fairly sure if he were in Jersey, it would take longer than that. Captain America was a bit lax about speed limits, who would have thought it?

Steve didn’t ask her if his access codes had changed, as though he knew they hadn’t. She was certain he could have learned a new code every day, but maybe Tony underestimated his intelligence. The idea that Tony would trust Steve enough not to change his codes was too hard to swallow, they’d only known each other a few months.

—-

At night, Steve thought the A left on Stark Tower was brighter than any other beacon in the city. Maybe it was just that it was so high up in the air, or perhaps it was that fancy generator on the top.

He fumbled a bit with the phone, typing in the numbers with his index finger instead of his thumbs. Sure, he could have used his thumbs, but it felt odd and he was always a bit worried he might crush the phone — it had been expensive.

“Hello Ms. Potts, I made it to Stark Tower,” he told Pepper’s voice mail. “Uh, I’ll let you know how Mr. Stark is when I know.”

He could hear the strain in her voice all the way from California, and he went into the building not quite knowing what to expect. As he made his way to the penthouse, Steve only grew more worried about Tony’s possible condition. Two by two, the stairs disappeared under him while his mind was busy with fears of assassinations gone awry, industrial accidents during armor repair, heart failure. He felt a bit ashamed for thinking that Tony might have even given himself alcohol poisoning or something mundane as that.

Finally, within the top ten floors, Steve was greeted by the voice of Tony’s invisible robot butler, “How nice of you to join us, Mr. Rogers.”

—-

Tony didn’t want to admit it, but the pain in his ribs had him stuck to this lab stool. The pills, he couldn’t even remember what kind they were, he’d been prescribed were still sitting on the counter in the master bath. He hadn’t even taken them out of the white paper bag they’d been delivered in. Bad idea to mix any kind of painkiller with alcohol and he worked best with a nice mix of caffeine and whiskey, it was the Irish in him.

Well, alright, there may be more whiskey in his coffee than he had Irish heritage, but the fact still stood that he worked best when he was energized, but still relaxed.

None of that changed the fact that his ribs ached no matter how he sat and stabbed him with pain if he moved wrong. Sleep might help, but he was working. He’d only been awake for three days; he wasn’t even legally insane yet. Besides, he’d progressed a lot on the repulsor-based space shuttle plans. The scale models were already in orbit and they wouldn’t be if he’d gotten sleep.

“Mr. Stark, Captain America is here to see you.”

“Shit,” Tony hissed. He tried to swivel on the stool and his entire torso let him now just how horrible an idea that was, all at once.

“Thanks for the head’s up, JARVIS!” he announced. “Exactly the kind of thing I’ve come to expect. I imagine Pepper was in on this?”

“Yes, she sent me,” Steve intruded.

“Careful, Cap, collusion borders on the unpatriotic,” Tony told him.

“It’s hardly collusion to check on you when Ms. Potts is concerned about your well being,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest in a way that was supposed to let Tony know that he was very, very disappointed in him. Like that would work.

“Ms. Potts,” he replied with unnecessary emphasis. “Has nothing to be concerned about.”

He’d made sure to hide the fact that he wasn’t sleeping from her, and it was easy to tell her he was taking care of himself via text message or anything that didn’t have a video feed.

“Well you’re conscious and there’s no foreign suit of armor standing over you gloating,” Steve replied.

He didn’t sound convinced, though, and that stuck in Tony’s maw in the weirdest ways, the way broken glass could slag up his armor’s boots and wind up, cooled solid, in the oddest places. Just as annoying too.

—-

“I’m fine,” Tony said.

He acted like a child and sat like a man with broken ribs.

“Are your ribs taped?” he asked.

“They don’t do that anymore,” Tony told him. “Constricts the breathing, increasing the risk of pneumonia and I already have a chest full of sharp pointy things, I don’t want to add bone fragments to the mix.”

Theory confirmed.

“Did they give you anything for it,” Steve asked. He came over and lifted Tony’s coffee mug. He could smell the alcohol from across the room, but that hadn’t prepared him for how strong it was when he took a whiff.

“Never mind,” Steve said, cutting into Tony’s continued insistence that he was fine. It involved listing all the things he’d managed to do in his condition. The parts that Steve understood seemed very impressive, though it was literally rocket science. How could he not be impressed, and a bit confused?

He dumped Tony’s coffee mug, to much protests.

“You don’t know what I’ve been pouring down that sink!”

Tony tried to convince him that he was turning the building’s plumbing into a bomb with a bit of stale coffee and whiskey, but Steve knew exaggeration when he heard it. He rinsed out the cup and filled it with cold water.

Not being particularly interested in reminders that Tony didn’t “like” being handed things, Steve set the mug on the worktop well within his reach. He still winced when he moved to grab it and Steve felt his forehead crease up between his brows. That seemed excessive for some two-day-old broken ribs.

“So, any idea why Pepper sent me to find you?” Steve asked. He was almost ready to go, all things considered.

“No idea,” Tony replied. “Probably, you’re closest. The tower’s fine, but maybe part of the security system is acting up. I should look over the security protocols, it’s been a couple weeks. Hell, might as well rewrite them from the ground up at this point, they’re practically antiques.”

Tony gave him a sideways look and asked, “Wouldn’t you agree?”

Steve frowned at him. In response, Tony stroked his goatee and laughed to himself like a cheap cinema villain. That was probably half the look he aimed for, after all he was quite theatrical.

He waved his hands through the air and scrolled through more information than Steve could fully grasp. He saw it all, no matter how fast it moved, but it meant little to him, like snatches of overheard conversation.

“JARVIS!” Tony shouted suddenly. “What’s this about you texting Pepper? Please tell me even my creations are plotting against me with Captain America.”

“My apologies, sir, but you did program me to see to your needs,” JARVIS said from everywhere and nowhere. If he focused, he could have pinpointed the speakers his voice came through, but Steve enjoyed the voice of god effect.

“Sleep, might I remind you, is a need.”

—-

Tony grabbed the mug so his mouth would be busy and he’d have a chance to ignore Steve’s question. He knew it was coming.

“How long have you gone without sleep?” There it was.

“Only three days,” he said into the mug of water. It had gone a little tepid, but loathe he who asked Steve Rogers to fetch him ice. He might even make him say “please.” Not worth it.

“Four,” JARVIS said.

“No way!” Tony protested immediately. “It’s definitely been three.”

“Excuse me sir, but I have a very exact measurement of time,” JARVIS snapped.

“Of course you do, I programmed you,” he pointed out. “But I can’t have been up for four days, I’m totally not tired enough. See?”

He hopped, as best he could, off the stool with the mug in one hand. In immediate retrospect, he should have left the mug on the worktop, because he was down one hand to catch himself with when he fell. Having someone else snag him by the shoulders so he didn’t make out with the granite title was humiliating, even if it spared him his beauty.

Leaning on Steve just made the humiliation worse, but maybe JARVIS had a point, because he wasn’t going to stay on his feet for long without Steve’s arm around his back and under his armpits. Tony slung his free hand over Steve’s shoulder and snapped the last of the water left in his mug, all that hadn’t spilled unceremoniously over the floor, down the back of his throat.

“Well, isn’t this cozy,” he said.

“You’re lucky I was here,” Steve reminded him, as though it wasn’t totally obvious.

“My crowns thank you,” he replied. “And I’m sure the people who got the floor patched up thank you for keeping me from bleeding all over it.”

“Which way to your bedroom?” he asked.

“My, you move fast,” Tony quipped. “That way.”

He pointed out the doorway with his empty mug and ignored the way Steve sighed at him. He almost — almost — sounded amused, but who could tell what Captain America’s sense of humor was like? It wasn’t exactly the point people came back to, though he must have one. It couldn’t all be polite laughter at jokes he clearly didn’t totally get.

He sort of expected to get dumped onto his mattress after all the trouble it was to drag him into the room, but Steve turned so that he could sit down himself.

“Do you need anything?” he asked, as though he was genuinely concerned.

Tony smirked, “A good-night kiss?”

Steve, as expected, scowled down at him. He settled his hands on his hips like a schoolteacher, even. As long as he kept reacting, Tony couldn’t help provoking him. It was fun and if he didn’t like it, he wouldn’t come check up on him because Pepper and JARVIS thought he didn’t get enough sleep. Tony bet that Steve never had to be carried to bed by someone. He probably got up at 5 a.m. every day and ate breakfast, how unnatural.

He pursed his lips up at Steve.

And then Steve leaned down over him and Tony suddenly didn’t know what to do. He hadn’t prepared for this possibility, it was just too outlandish. He froze, lips still puckered, as Steve’s face dropped just an inch above his.

There might have been an undignified squeak. Tony Stark could neither confirm nor deny any sort of un-masculine sound at the thought that Steve might actually kiss him just to show up his stupid joke.

Instead, a big warm hand swept up over his forehead and into his hair. Then, for just a moment, there was the warm touch of a pair of lips. Steve smelled like leather jackets and sweat and aftershave, as human as anything.

“Now go to sleep,” Steve told him, still very close.

He was staring Tony down in a way he really couldn’t protest against. Besides, his brain had slammed on the breaks trying to figure out what the hell that was — a forehead kiss? What was that supposed to mean? Was Steve Rogers secretly a middle-aged soccer mom? It was a theory that had far too much credibility at this point.

Seriously, Captain America had just put him to bed like a sick child. The world was clearly broken.

But Tony was suddenly too tired to worry about it much.

—-

“I got him to go to bed,” Steve explained over the phone to Pepper Potts. “He seems pretty beat up, but nothing rest won’t help.”

“How did you do it?” she wondered aloud. That kind of thing usually took an act of god, even her personal intervention was useless sometimes.

“I picked him up off the floor, carried him, and kissed him good night,” Steve explained.

He laughed, but Pepper actually had to take the phone from her ear and stare at it.

“You kissed him?!” she asked.

Steve’s laughter picked up, from a soft chuckle to a true laugh.

“You’re…” Pepper put the phone back to her ear and held her forehand with her other hand.

“You’re something else, Mr. Rogers,” she said, finally.

Steve had kissed Tony. Well, no wonder he was in bed. If that wasn’t an act of god she’d need to reassess her definition of the miraculous.

“So I’ve been told, Ms. Potts.”

She laughed a bit, and sighed at the same time.

“Thank you,” she said. “I’m glad there’s someone else I can trust to watch out for him. Happy and I can only do so much.”

“Really,” Steve told her. “It’s my pleasure.”


End file.
